


The Contemporary, Cantankerous Cavalier

by MFM



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: Fuck the Police, Gallows Humor, Gen, Humor, Modern Era, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3860677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MFM/pseuds/MFM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fi and Link have managed to defend Skyloft from Volga and Ghirahim, and for the moment, all is well. For them, at least. As for Volga, his newest defeat somehow managed to land him in an endless white void, which eventually leads him into a mysterious new world. Will he manage to escape this world, return to Cia's side, and best Link? Perhaps more pertinently, will he even want to?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Present Day, Present Time

Volga was not quite sure where he was. Following his defeat at the hands of that insidious, green-clad annoyance– that was no true defeat, the berserker reminded himself. After all, not only did he have that floaty, dancing chatterbox that could turn into a sword accompanying him, but that lightning bolt that came out of nowhere had deprived Volga of his precious power. That scarf of his looked stupid, too.

His eternal rage briefly quelled, he rerailed his train of thought. Following that incident, he had been knocked off of the floating island. He had expected to fall back down to Hyrule, slightly more scorching than his usual state but ultimately none the worse for wear. Instead, an eternal void of white greeted him.

As he got to his feet, he briefly entertained the possibility that it was some parlor trick, not unlike the magic of his own floating compatriot. Even if it was in the same vein, however, it could not have possibly been him; the environs were not nearly moody or monochrome enough for that.

Tightening his grasp on his spear, the dragon knight took a first step forward, then continued into a deliberate march. The blankness persisted for the duration of his pace, which did not escape even his hotheaded judgment.

His gaze snapped to one side of him, but he still saw nothing. His gaze snapped in the other direction, but he still saw nothing. Enraged, he let out a roar, and stabbed the ground below him with his spear. The force of his blow dispelled the entirety of the void surrounding him, revealing that the tip of his spear was embedded in a stone walkway that was now beneath his feet.

Volga was no stranger to stone walkways or introducing them to his spear, but this one in particular perplexed him. Deliberate lines were carved into it width-wise, creating multiple square slabs, as opposed to one continuous walkway. The sights to either side of this mysterious new walkway only further confused him.

To one side, there was a black road. Enigmatic contraptions moved and came to rest atop it; the vehicles resembled horse-drawn chariots, yet they moved without the help of any such animals.

To the other side, there was an enormous building, distinctly rectangular in shape and stretching far into the sky. Volga would even estimate that it was bigger than the castle in Hyrule, though he imagined it much easier to conquer. After all, it didn't have that ridiculous scarf-wearing bother who insisted that he bested Volga despite his clearly inferior fighting skills, and–

The rage in Volga seared forth once more, and he floated into the air a brief second before erupting into his draconic form. He looked down at the passers-by surrounding him, most of whom were wearing blue or black suits made of strange material and staring up at him in terror.

The dragon's neck launched forward, causing his head to hover a scant few inches away from a woman staring at him. "You think you're stronger than me?" asked the berserker, his newly donned form giving his voice an even more distinctive snarl than usual.

"I– Uh– What?" the clearly balding woman asked, her hairpiece starting to slide off one side of her head.

"Do you think you're stronger than me?!" the dragon knight roared, searing flames bursting from all around him. Miraculously, the only real damage done to any passers-by were to their precious hair (or hair accessories), but nevertheless most fled in terror.

Volga returned to his humanoid form and smirked at the scorched stone beneath him. It would forever be a memorial of his newest victory, he mused. This thought abated his fury and most other intelligent thought until he came across the fabled intersection. He stopped for a short second, recognizing the end of the stone path and the beginning of the black trail to another stone path.

It was then he noticed the flashing red sign shortly above the opposite stone walkway, presumably connected to the metal pole behind it. He stared at his own red armor, then nodded in decision, telling himself, "This sign beckons to me."

He had barely taken one step onto the black pavement before one of the metallic chariots blindsided him, zooming from the opposite end of the pavement straight into his side. Its front hood had totally caved in, and its controller was clearly dazed from behind his window, but Volga himself suffered no injury. In fact, the car hadn't even managed to push him an inch.

What it had managed to do to him, however, was enrage him further. A torrent of fire engulfed the knight, and his dragon form flew out of the flames, flying high into the sky and taking the caved-in chariot with it.

Although the man inside it cried for mercy, Volga's roar overtook any noise he made. "It was my _turn_!" the dragon declared after reaching the apex of his ascent, shortly before lobbing the automobile far into the distance.

Volga descended, falling straight through the roof of the building that was now beneath him. He resumed his human form shortly after his landing, and he spun his spear all about himself to dispel the dust cloud he had kicked up. The air around him then clear, he inspected his new surroundings.

Although he recognized almost nothing within the space, the few things he did recognize made it clear that it was some sort of living abode. A strangely vacant living abode, he was quick to note.

Volga shrugged, then declared to the heavens his occupation of the living space. He hadn't the scantest idea of where he was, but until he could find the answer to that, he might as well take some time to relax and build his strength in this living space.

He nodded in appreciation of himself and laid down on one of the leisure seats strewn about the room. He grabbed a nearby remote and fiddled with it, his curiosity eventually rewarding him by turning on the nearby widescreen television.

Volga didn't quite know how he had managed to turn on the device, nor did he even remotely understand what it was showing him. But he fixed his gaze to it, its lights and noises having enraptured him. As a result, he was left unable to notice the lights and noises coming from right outside his window. Specifically, the lights and noises of police sirens.


	2. Hot Fuzz

The police officers surrounding Volga's abode poured out of their cars one-by-one, each adopting a ready position and aiming their firearms at any possible exits. They lied in wait for several minutes, yet nobody exited in that time.

One police officer in particular, a young woman who was evidently quite green from the way she held herself, dug a megaphone out of her vehicle. She fiddled with it before being satisfied, and she started to speak into it.

While it didn't succeed in drawing Volga's attention, the violent feedback from the officer's attempted declaration did draw annoyed glances from her coworkers. She adjusted her uniform's collar and gave an awkward laugh, before clearing her throat and trying again.

"Come out of the house with your hands up!" the megaphone blared, the other officers present relieved that, for once, it didn't take the woman 20 tries to work a megaphone properly.

Up to that point, Volga had paid the flashing and blaring sirens no mind, for doing so would have distracted him from the flashing pictures before him. The knight found himself amused by the antics of the cat and mouse on-screen, though annoyance started to overtake him when the mouse's victory became ever more evident.

Then came the end of the animated feature, in which the mouse and his relative, smaller mouse had left the cat to a beheading. Volga had sympathized with the cat, as the clearly stronger being who had been bested by some lowlife creature through deception and trickery. His rage started to boil.

The vocal declaration from outside coincided with Volga's fever pitch, and as an instant reaction he roared, tearing the TV from its resting place and throwing it at the window. His aim was a bit off, and the video screen instead soared at a nearby wall, but its course stayed true, and it plowed right through the wall before coming to rest. In the process, a police officer who had taken position by the wall was buried under rubble and destroyed electronics. God rest his soul.

The police officers stared in bafflement at the newly-created exit as Volga emerged from it, his spear now tightly clutched in his hand. The young lady officer, in particular, nearly dropped the megaphone out of shock.

Volga's shade-covered eyes scanned all those before him, and he blew fire into the air before exclaiming, "Which of you was it that disturbed my moving pictures?!"

While a scant few of the law enforcers were quick to point fingers at their female compatriot, most of the rest, including the lady officer herself, instead opened fire on the man before them. Though the lady officer did silently ask herself where he got his costume, and how she could get something in a similar style.

Despite their concentrated effort, however, Volga still suffered no visible damage. The majority of the bullets hit his armor, harmlessly bouncing off and crumpling into useless heaps of brass and lead. Those few that had hit his exposed skin dug managed to dig into it, but with a flex of his muscles, they harmlessly popped out, into his outstretched hand. One bullet, in particular, went towards his mouth, but Volga had managed to bite down on it and swallow it whole.

He let slip a small laugh as a plume of flame escaped from his mouth, and he took another look around, at the expressions of the now-terrified blue-clad people around him. Most kept their weapons concentrated on him, though from their trembling it was clear they realized the futility. One police officer, this one portly and mustachioed, dashed towards his vehicle, reaching for a communication device housed inside.

Volga was on top of him in an instant, right as he had started to ask for reinforcements, and the berserker interrupted the plea with his own demand into the device: "Why must you interrupt my personal time?!"

Though the feminine voice on the other end initially vocalized clear shock as to who was addressing her, she cleared her throat and stated in a deadpan, "Sir, you do realize that what you've done is qualified as breaking and entering?"

"Nonsense!" declared Volga, holding the portly officer at spear-point to dissuade his attempted reacquisition of the device. "The abode was empty; if the supposed owners didn't want anyone coming in, they should have barricaded it!"

A sigh came from over the device. "I'm not sure how you don't understand this, sir, but there's not much anyone can do about someone breaking a hole in their ceiling." Over Volga's protests, she continued, "You're also wanted for vandalism of private property."

Volga's grunting response made clear his confusion. The woman clarified, "You threw a car half a mile. Even ignoring how such a feat is possible, did you expect it to be in perfect condition afterward?"

"If that vehicle could not withstand my assault," Volga said solemnly, "then it had no right to life."

The surrounding police officers kept their weapons fixed on him, though more than a few of them had to stifle chuckles at his response. A spear pointed in their general direction quickly silenced them.

Ignoring the protests on the other end, Volga continued into the speaker, "If you have problems with the way of the warrior, perhaps we should discuss this in person. As warriors!"

Volga tore the device from its cord, preemptively silencing any complaints the woman could have had. He turned to the young woman police officer, for she was the closest to him at the time, and grabbed her by the collar. A pallor overcame her countenance as he held her, asking her, "Woman! Where might I find whoever that ethereal voice was?"

The officer eventually rediscovered the ability to form coherent sentences, and with it an idea formed in her head. "Just keep going down that road, you won't miss it," she told him, pointing to her left. "And make sure you walk there; otherwise, you won't be able to see it!"

Volga released her from his vicegrip and nodded in her general direction, before taking off. With the speed of his dash, he was out of earshot within seconds, and the policewoman doffed her hat, sighing and wiping both sweat and stray brown bangs of hair from her forehead.

The surrounding police officers showed similar relief, though the portly one ceased his celebration early and turned to his younger companion. "You do realize you sent him to the–"

The young officer cut him off with a curt nod, letting a small smile creep onto her face.

"You do realize that he'll be even angrier next we see him?"

She waved her hand dismissively as she moved to her vehicle, telling him, "Don't worry about that. By the time he realizes, it'll be someone else's problem. Hopefully."

Meanwhile, Volga had made a headlong dash to the nearby beach. Ignoring the screams of citizens around him, he made a beeline for the horizon, sure that their secret base was nearby.

It was not until he was under dozens of feet of water that he entertained the thought that he'd been deceived.


	3. Feel the Burn

All about the beach, there was merrymaking aplenty for all present. Some groups simply lounged on the hot sand and took in the sights. A few other groups stayed in the shaded greenery just adjacent to the sand and enjoyed some picnicking. A single duo in particular was splayed about the sand and making out. Rather loudly, at that, much to the disturbance of all others present.  
  
And, of course, the ocean contained a wide variety of people, who each enjoyed the water for their own reasons. Of this multitude, but a few noticed as the water slowly started to heat up. Even then, only a minority became worried from this heat and evacuated the water. Most of those few dismissed it as the sun reaching its apex in the sky, and they continued to go about their business.  
  
That majority reached an unfortunate end when an eruption of flame burst forth from the ocean floor, evaporating most of the water in an instant. All present (except for the aforementioned oblivious couple) looked to the sky, where the eruption had reached its apex. The fire had dissipated, and in its place hovered a dragon, an aura of red surrounding it and its glower looking down upon all of the beach-goers.  
  
The vast majority fled in terror, abandoning anything that would have required carrying. Except for the families who had to carry their infants, but even they would run for a good while before remembering their abandoned children. The minority that stayed included exactly two people: the two who had paid no attention at all to anything around them.  
  
The winged creature glared at them and dove at them, spiraling and creating a torrent of flame around itself in the process. This would show them, it decided; it would show them all for ignoring its strength!  
  
The explosion was visible for miles. The couple was never seen again.  
  
As Volga departed from the beach, adopting his humanoid form once more, he pondered ways he could get even stronger. He already considered himself the strongest around, but he needed to be even stronger than that. After all, strong as he was, he did not consider himself the most clever man around. If he was stronger, though, that wouldn't matter! No amount of deceit or trickery would be able to overcome his raw strength!  
  
As if on cue, he took notice of the sign of a nearby building. It was a neon sign, depicting two men of exaggerated proportions. Volga couldn't say he was quite sure what they were doing, but it seemed to be a rather sexual form of fighting.  
  
Such a mockery of bloodshed and war disgusted Volga, who scoffed, a small plume of flame escaping from his mouth in the process. He would have walked away, then, if not for the writing right below the graphic scene.  
  
"One-on-One Gym: All the Training You Need for That Special Encounter!"  
  
Volga pondered the idea of a 'special encounter.' Perhaps this building with the questionable sign knew of his plight; it knew of the nemesis he needed to defeat once and for all. Yes, that green twerp with the stupid scarf! Volga briefly questioned how the building would know of his heated determination, but this confusion was quickly overcome by his burning desire to defeat that supposed hero once and for all!  
  
Volga was quick to discover the entrance, and upon entrance he was confronted by an entirely too-enthusiastic clerk.  
  
"Hey, handsome!" said the clerk. Volga did not give the clerk the time of day, not even sparing a sidelong glance as he walked around the clerk's booth.  
  
"Excuse me, sir, but do you have a membership?" the clerk asked, reaching a hand out to Volga.  
  
The berserker whipped out his spear, holding it to the clerk's neck. "What nonsense are you spouting?" asked he. When the terrified clerk didn't respond, Volga turned back to the exercise machines and approached them. In the process, he literally walked through the gate separating the entrance and the main section of the gym, leaving the gate a molten pile of metal.  
  
Much to his annoyance, Volga was quick to discover that most of the machines were already being used, much less so incorrectly. All these machines existed as weights to be lifted, thought he; why were they just sitting on the machines and doing those pitiful exercises? To demonstrate for the lesser life-forms, Volga approached the nearest vacant machine he could find; it had a seat, as well as one handle to each side of the seat, each handle being connected to a series of weights.  
  
Instead of sitting in the seat, though, Volga bent down, picking up the machine by its base. A scant few noticed his actions and paid no mind to them initially, but many more took notice when he started to lift the entire machine over his head with ease. At the apex of his lift, the machine's top scraped the ceiling of the building. With a light grunt, he brought the machine down, such that the base was level with his waist, before lifting it once more.  
  
Soon, he was surrounded by others, who had previously been exercising as well. Some were awed by his feat of strength, some were awed while desperately trying to look unimpressed, and some were confused by his incompetence.  
  
One man in particular, who looked entirely too old and scrawny to survive in a gym, approached the cavalier. He cleared his throat, causing a slight ruffle of his graying mustache, before asking, "Excuse me, sir, but I think you're using that machine incorrectly."  
  
"What did you say to me?" Volga asked, glaring at the man. Those surrounding them stayed silent and started to back away; the scrawny man himself did the same for a bit before catching himself.  
  
"Well, it looks like you're supposed to sit down," the man replied, indicating the seat of the machine, "and pull on those handles for arm exercises."  
  
Volga stared at the man for a while longer; the air in the gym nearly froze. The tension alleviated somewhat, however, when Volga actually set the machine down and sat in it. He set the weights to their highest possible setting and gripped the handles. At this point, most people watching thought the spectacle over, and they returned to their own exercise routines. The few that remained, however, were shocked when Volga pulled on the handles so hard, the cords connecting the handles and weights snapped immediately.  
  
Volga stood, and the tension in the air returned in an instant. The elderly man attempted to stammer out a reply, but a light chuckle from the dragon knight's lips interrupted him. As Volga grabbed the machine once more, he held it parallel to the floor. "I must admit, you're quite brave," Volga told the man. "Interrupting my training, giving me false advice. Yes, you've got guts."  
  
The man gave a false start of a reply a few times, before finally managing to start, "But I–"  
  
"Now let me rip them out!" yelled Volga, swinging the machine at the man. The man had no time to process the attack, much less avoid it. The impact sent him flying into the opposite wall of the gym, and the entire upper half of his body was embedded into the wall.  
  
It was Volga's turn to be shocked, however, for the man was clearly still alive; the visible lower half of his body flailed with reckless abandon. Volga started his approach to finish the job, when he was surrounded by a league of people who attempted to detain him. Meanwhile, a group of others moved to try and remove the elderly man from the wall.  
  
In that moment, Volga realized that no amount of training done there could have possibly helped him in his ultimate goal. Accordingly, there was only one more thing to be done.  
  
From the parking lot, Volga observed the burning wreckage of the gym with a smirk. He heard the wail of sirens fast on the horizon, though, so he could not stay to admire his handiwork for long. He turned and started out of the lot, but another elderly man stopped him. Oddly, this man looked exactly like the one in the gym, but entirely in monochrome.  
  
"Excuse me, but I've been looking for you for a very long time," said the man, a slimy quality evident in his voice from the outset.  
  
"You?" asked Volga, looking back at the burning wreckage for but a moment. "But I–"  
  
Only then did the knight take note of the man's color palette, and he materialized his spear in an instant. He held the spear to the man's throat and repeated, "You."  
  
"Oh, so you've found me out already," said the man, showing only the slightest bit of disappointment. The man's face contorted as one, swirling away and giving way to a pink eye, which covered the entirety of his face. The eye then opened, transforming into a mouth with jagged teeth, and a decrepit laugh escaped from the mouth.  
  
A cone of darkness encapsulated the man, though it faded after a measly second. Once it had faded, the visage of the man had disappeared, replaced with the floating Wizzro.  
  
"How's your time off been, you fool of a knight?" asked Wizzro, laughing once more.


	4. Hello, Darkness, My Old Friend

The berserk cavalier and the twisted sorceror stood amidst the flame, the light of the pyre making naught but their silhouettes visible. The knight held his spear at the ready, his own flame emanating from his weapon. The wizard only gave another laugh in response, his body contorting and producing a ghoulish armament from his shoulder. There they stood, each waiting for the other to make a move.

"Hey, what are you two doing there?!" shouted a firefighter that had just arrived on the scene, his voice amplified by the megaphone through which he was shouting. "This area's dangerous; get outta here!"

With a quick glance to the firefighter, then to each other, the duo of dark and flame scurried off, metaphorical tails between their (metaphorical, in Wizzro's case) legs.

* * *

After having run/floated a distance they couldn't be bothered to remember, Volga and Wizzro came to a stop, catching their breath. Once they'd managed to do so, they both took a look around, only to discover that they were still right next to each other.

Although Volga held his weapon at the ready, he didn't do so with nearly as much conviction; instead, his stance seemed more out of obligation than anything. With a groan, he stated, "Perhaps it wasn't for the best for the two of us to run in the same direction."

"Now don't be ridiculous," responded Wizzro, floating only every so slightly out of Volga's reach. "Since that kind gentleman stopped a fight from breaking out, perhaps now we can talk without you trying to lop my head off!"

Volga grunted and withdrew his lance after a second of hesitation. He looked away from his compatriot and asked, "Why are you here, then?"

Wizzro paused, spinning in place and taking in all the sights around him. "On second thought, that can wait," he said. "I'm new to this world myself, after all; let's have some fun while we can!"

Volga stared. "Fun?"

* * *

The duo came to rest atop a skyscraper; as Wizzro stared intently about the city, Volga looked off into the horizon, disinterested. After an extended silence, Volga stated, "You still haven't told me your idea of 'fun'."

"Oh, just watch," the sorceror replies, flashing an invisible grin. He raised his arms, and all around himself he conjured multiple orbs of concentrated darkness. Volga stole a quick glance of the orbs, but otherwise showed no reaction.

Orbs continued to materialize around Wizzro, until they had nearly formed a larger sphere of darkness all around him. It was at this point the wizard flung his hands forward, and the orbs all flew at a different skyscraper. It was then that Volga started to take interest, staring at the course of the spheres.

One by one, the mass of sphere hit the building, but no damage was visible. Instead, an orb stuck to wherever it struck the building; once every orb had hit the building, they had formed a series of letters. Specifically, they spelled out "WIZZRO RULEZZ" in a very messy font.

Volga sighed, shaking his head. He turned to Wizzro and told him, "You have a very strange idea of fun."

Wizzro's laugh of a response was nearly a screech in its high-pitched intensity. "Oh, the fun's barely started, my dim-witted companion!"

The dark wizard snapped his fingers, and the resultant sound resembled two dried leaves breaking against one another. An extended pause followed, during which Volga's disappointed gaze toward the building persisted. But a few seconds later, though, a single orb in the middle of the formation exploded.

The explosion created a chain reaction which extended outward, each orb in the statement exploding in sequence due to the ones adjacent to it exploding. Once most of the orbs had exploded, a larger, more violent burst of darkness exploded from the side of the building, and as one the side of the building collapsed, toppling away from the skyscraper which Volga and Wizzro inhabited.

Volga gaped, but even then the stunt continued. The collapsing building toppled right into the building behind it, in turn causing a domino effect of toppling buildings and terrified and screaming citizens.

The chaos settled finally, an entire city block left naught but a pile of rubble. Wizzro laughed once more, this laugh in particular prevailing all those previous in sheer volume. He turned to his knight companion and asked, "See, wasn't that fun?"

Volga nodded half-heartedly, stroking his chin. "It was impressive, I'll admit," he said, before leaping into the sky and morphing into a more draconic form. Although his new form made his facial features near-unrecognizable, Wizzro could still see hints of a smirk on his draconic maw. "But I could do better," Volga continued.

At once, Wizzro understood, and he floated higher into the sky, away from the building. As he did so, the dragon knight wound up before unleashing a scorching flame from his mouth. The flame engulfed the building, with the flame being so strong that some of it bounded off the building and caught fire on adjacent buildings.

The fires were quick to spread, and soon the whole block was caught under dancing flames that reached to the skies. After that, the block did not last much longer before the buildings started to completely burn down one-by-one. Shortly after, charred remains were all that remained.

Wizzro hovered next to Volga, gesticulating wildly. "Excellent! I didn't take you as one to be such a fan of needless havoc," he commended, suppressing another decrepit laugh.

Volga returned to a humanoid form, albeit with draconic wings still sticking out of his back. A chuckle escaped from him, and he responded, "I suppose you're to blame for that."

The two created a symphony of evil laughter that reverberated across the whole area. Meanwhile, on ground level, a certain policewoman with chestnut hair watched the havoc from outside her police car through binoculars. She considered reaching for the comm device in her car, but decided against it; she doubted police officers were equipped to detain things straight out of bad fantasy series.

With a sigh, she ducked back into the vehicle, muttering, "My superiors will be _thrilled_ to hear about this."

* * *

After having their fill of toying with innocent lives, Volga and Wizzro fled the area entirely, and they rendezvoused in a remote forest outside the city. The two looked up at each other after a pause to catch their breath, and Wizzro mentioned, "Deja vu."

"I don't need you spouting your hexes at me, sorceror," Volga responded, drawing his spear once more.

Wizzro rolled his eye. "Don't be such a killjoy. You had fun back there, too, didn't you?"

"Now's not the time for fun," Volga responded, holding his weapon at the ready. He ignored Wizzro mockingly miming his speech and continued, "Will you tell me why you're here now?"

"To retrieve you, of course," Wizzro replied. Volga started to protest in confusion, but Wizzro continued over him, "Did you think Lady Cia wouldn't notice your sudden disappearance? You don't have the best track record in her forces, you know."

Volga withdrew his spear and turned away from the wizard. At least, he tried, but Wizzro hovered right back into his field of vision. "I have the strength to overcome any foe," Volga said, nearly talking past Wizzro, "What reason would anyone have to doubt me?"

Wizzro's retort was a low giggle. The cavalier oddly found it more unsettling than the shrillest of his laughs. The sorceror then replied, "Yes, your repeated failures to defeat that green pest have made you so reliable."

"That green pest cheated!" protested Volga, holding his spear at the ready once more. "No true warrior would need outside aid to win a battle!"

Wizzro found himself rolling his eye yet again. "By your logic, a true warrior wouldn't survive a single war," he muttered.

Volga ignored Wizzro's comment and turned away again. "Lady Cia's concerns interest me little; unless she has found a more worthy opponent for me, she shouldn't bother me."

"And if I told you your chance to finally defeat that man in green has come?" asked Wizzro.

Although the knight didn't turn to meet the wizard's gaze, he let his eyes wander back towards him. "I'm listening."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I will admit I introduced Wizzro into the story just so I could give one of the chapters that title. I'm kind of sorry but not really.)


	5. Smash TV

The Hero of Hyrule was in dire straits in combat with his eternal adversary, the King of Darkness. The battlefield upon which he faced his nemesis was entirely new to him, yet it felt all too familiar. He had been led to believe it was his beloved Hyrule, yet the twisted visage surrounding him gave only the vaguest resemblance to the country.

However, he couldn't let this bother him for too long, for the imposing stature of Ganondorf was fast approaching. Link narrowly dodged the Gerudo's lunging attack, then made a single step toward his vulnerable enemy, bringing with it a mighty slash of the Master Sword. He took another step, and with it yet another slash.

The two-fold attack was too much for the then-weakened king, and with a final cry of despair, he was flung backward, crashing into and crumpling across the ground unceremoniously.

Then the results screen came up on the TV. Link struck a victorious pose, while his adversary clapped sardonically in the background, and the game's announcer exclaimed, "This game's winner is – LINK!"

The TV then met its end at the hands of a thrown controller, courtesy of a certain berserk knight. He slumped back onto the couch behind him, crossing his arms and pouting. He turned his head to the laughing Wizzro, who was hovering and celebrating his victory nearby, and told him, "I thought you said this would let me defeat that runt."

"I said I'd give you a chance," replied the wizard, descending onto the couch and kicking his nonexistent legs onto the coffee table. "It's not my responsibility if you fail to capitalize upon it."

Volga's attention snapped back to the video game console. "One more time, then!"

Wizzro waited a few seconds, to see whether his compatriot would catch onto the crackling remains before them. A while passed, and no other words escaped from the dragon knight's mouth. Wizzro was about to point it out, when Volga simply said, "Oh."

"Oh, indeed," said Wizzro with a sigh. "Why must you ruin the perfect opportunity to exact your vengeance?"

"Vengeance, nothing!" Volga stood in an instant, his spear appearing in his hand. "I have never truly lost to that pipsqueak; he has merely cheated me out of a fair fight through his trickery!"

As if to prove his point, Volga swung the spear around a few times, culminating in him stabbing it into the coffee table and bisecting it. "Oh," he reiterated.

With a groan and a wave of his hand, Wizzro summoned a gooey purple substance, which appeared between the two halves of the table and reattached them. "You really should be careful around things that aren't yours," Wizzro told his companion.

Volga blinked the void where his eyes ought to have been. "Are these things even yours?"

"Well, they are now!" the wizard replied with a shriek of a laugh.

As if on cue, the front door of the home slowly started to creak open. Many things happened in the ensuing second. First, an angered Volga turned to the opening door, ready to lob his spear at whatever was to step through. In that same moment, a spark flew from the crackling remains of the television and landed on the carpet.

Second, a panicked Wizzro grabbed onto the dragon knight and dragged him backward before enveloping the two of them in a shroud of darkness. The shroud faded after a second, the two of them with it. In the time it took for that to happen, the proud owner of the home had made his entrance, and the spark had grown into a mighty flame.

"Honey, I'm–" the owner started, before he was interrupted by the visage of the fire. He sighed and pulled out his phone, asking nobody in particular as he dialed 9-1-1, "This again?"

* * *

"I thought you said those things were yours," said a confused Volga, as the shroud of darkness dissipated in a parking lot.

"Yes, yes, I say a lot of things," the wizard replied, giving a dismissive wave of his skeletal hand as he scanned the surrounding area. Once his scan was complete, he continued, "Well, shall we see what other fun there is to be had in this miserable era?" Accompanying his statement, his lone eye morphed into a mouth, and his rancid tongue ran across his jagged teeth.

"Never do that again," said the dragon knight, his body visibly yet ever-so-slightly shuddering. "Your form and antics disgust me."

Wizzro's eye returned to its normal form, such as it was, and gave Volga the most deadpan look possible with just a single eye. Ignoring his companion's gaze, Volga continued, "And why must we remain in this era?"

The dark mage started to speak, then stopped himself. He considered briefly, then asked, "So soon? From your refusal before, I thought you'd begun to warm up to the place."

"Don't be ridiculous. Whatever warmth may exist is but the flame of a small candle," Volga started, a breath of flame escaping as his voice rose in volume, "in comparison to the burning fury I have for that so-called hero!" The breath of flame became a stream of fire that Volga shot into the air, before suddenly turning and chucking his spear at a random wall.

Wizzro chuckled and said in a low voice, "Oh, good, his bottomless temper has returned. All the easier to manipulate him with."

"What was that?" Volga asked, turning back to Wizzro and his heated temperament vanishing in an instant.

"Oh, nothing, nothing, my dear pawn," Wizzro said, laughing and waving his twig of an arm. He then held his arms perpendicular to the ground, and a glowing portal appeared beneath the two of them. "Shall we get going, then?"

Before Volga could respond, a familiar voice declared from not a few meters away, "Stop right there!"

The two turned, the portal disappearing in the process, and standing before them was the chestnut-haired police officer, a pistol in her hands. "You both are under arrest for destruction of public property, destruction of private property, assault…"

The list of charges continued as such for a long while, enough so that a bored Wizzro hovered closer to Volga. "How do you know this wench?" asked the wizard.

Volga shrugged in response, just in time for the officer to finish with, "…and loitering! Now, put your hands up!"

The two both did as she said, though seemed more confused by the demand than anything. She then approached the two of them, pulling a pair of handcuffs out and cuffing both of them.

The officer stepped back to admire her handiwork as the duo both stared at the handcuffs. They both started to laugh, but she cut them off by yelling, "Silence! Anything you say or do can and will be used against you–"

The sound of handcuffs snapping interrupted her. She frantically looked at the two of them in sequence. She first looked at Volga, with the snapped chain on the ground in front of him and the cuffs themselves hanging uselessly from his wrists. She then looked to Wizzro, who simply held his hands limply, and the handcuffs slid right off his thin arms.

She paled in horror, struggling to say anything in response. Before she could manage to do so, Wizzro started to form a portal once more, asking Volga, "Well, shall we get going?"

Volga nodded, and from the portal flashed a bright light, before it revealed the visage of Hyrule beneath the two of them. The portal then absorbed the two of them, but not before Volga gave the stunned police officer a pointed glance, then looked away without a word.

With that, the two were gone. The brunette officer gaped, still struggling to find any words. She stood, then began to walk away, finally managing to say to nobody in particular, "I am so fired."


	6. Putting the Band Back Together

The twisted visage of the Temple of Souls stood before Volga and Wizzro upon their return to Hyrule. Wreathes of unnatural flowers surrounded them, nearly suffocating them, and the various incarnations of the green-clad hero were immortalized in countless memorials, each another reminder of their boss's obsession. The nearest such memorial was a statue of the Hero of Time in his youth, a serene look on his face as he played his signature ocarina.

With a grunt, Volga kicked the statue, knocking it over and shattering it. A bemused Wizzro looked on, before summoning one of his dark creatures and morphing it into a broom and dustpan. As he swept up the remains, he asked his compatriot, "Was that really necessary? Is your ego so easily bruised?"

Volga did not give an immediate answer, instead opting to stare into the distance like the cool guy he thought he was. Following an extended pause, Wizzro was about to press him for an actual answer, Volga finally answered, "It probably wasn't, actually."

The dark wizard shook his head and returned his attention to the temple's entrance, just in time to see their leader exit from it with her signature hip-swaying walk. He pondered the point of it, when the three of them were clearly the only ones around; Volga probably didn't even know what sex appeal was, and even if Wizzro felt any such thing toward Cia, the fact that his only orifice was his crooked mouth would make things… _difficult_.

However, Cia interrupted his bizarre reverie with a laugh as she stepped closer to Volga, running a hand down the side of his turned face. Though the knight did not visibly respond in any way, the sorceress took the opportunity to ask him, "Well, my dear Volga. Where have you been all this time?" Her gaze wandered over to the shattered Hero of Time, and she pursued, "And why'd you break one of my statues? Those cost money to replace."

Only then did Volga turn to meet Cia's gaze. Or at least he started to, but he was stopped when the beak of her mask ended up poking him right in his eye-void. He cried out in pain and recoiled back, much to the giggling amusement of Wizzro and consternation of Cia. With a low sigh, she told him, "I didn't send Wizzro after you to watch you be incompetent some more."

"Why do you even need that mask?!" Volga asked in reply, pain evident in his voice. He soon regained his composure, and continued in a less pained but more heated tone, "Even if you have to hide your identity, do you need to wear the decapitated head of an avian for that?"

The start of Wizzro's resultant laugh was cut off by an aside glance from Cia in his direction; she then turned back to Volga and retorted, "I don't want to be lectured on my fashion sense by one of my minions, much less one who wears a dragon's skull as a hat."

"This is no mere headwear!" declared the berserker, shooting fire into the air above his head. "It is the proud trophy of a dragon who has bested any who dare come at him!"

The two dark mages each rolled their eyes, though it was much more obvious in Wizzro's case due to his one round, pink eye. Cia muttered in reply, shielding her eyes from the bright light from Volga's flame, "Any except that darling hero, of course."

The dragon knight's attention was fixated upon Cia once more, and once she was aware of such, she continued, "But don't worry, my dear fool. Your opportunity for revenge shall present itself soon enough. The hero is off on a merry journey as we speak, to collect a little relic to defeat me."

Wizzro's eye visibly widened, before morphing into a twisted grin. "The blade of evil's bane?" he asked, running his tongue over his lips.

With a giggle, Cia replied, "The very same."

Before either she or Volga knew it, the twisted wizard had disappeared in a veil of darkness. The knight turned to his master, a confused expression apparent on his countenance, and he stated, "You knew he'd do that."

Cia turned back to the stairs leading to the temple entrance and giggled once more. "But of course; I suppose even someone as stupid as you can have sudden moments of clarity."

Volga said nothing to the backhanded compliment, though the slightest of wrinkles was apparent on his nose. "And you'll just let him go like that?"

By that point, Cia was at the top of the stairs, and she made a grand motion in turning back to Volga. "Either he stops the heroes there, putting an end to this game, or the heroes end him and his treachery, getting that old thorn out of my side. Either way, there's one less obstacle in my way."

"But if he stops them, then I shall never be able to prove my true superiority over that twerp!" As if to emphasize his point, Volga summoned his spear and twirled it about himself, before adopting a battle-ready stance, ready to face nothing in particular.

Cia shrugged. "Should it ever come to that, just defeat that wizard. Wouldn't you be stronger by association, then?"

The sorceress looked down upon her subordinate, awaiting some sort of response. However, his only reaction was a small nod of realization, before he followed her up the stairs. She turned away from him once more and couldn't help but laugh, in appreciation of her own genius.

* * *

"I failed," Wizzro said with a shrug, appearing before his companions from a veil of darkness. His sudden appearance visibly shocked the both of them, though that was likely due to the variety of white bandages wrapped around him.

Volga snorted. "I fail to see how dressing as a Gibdo would dispose of any of them."

Wizzro made a sound of mock offense, and replied over Cia's laughter, "And you think you'd fare so much better, Mr. 'I-Lost-to-an-Elf-Because-of-a-Whale-with-a-Pumpkin-Soup-Obession'?"

Volga rose from his seated position, a draconic claw forming over one arm and his spear forming in the grasp of the other. "What was that, now?!"

Cia looked away from the duo's arguing and muttered, "Not much better than losing from seeing your own reflection."

As one, Volga and Wizzro turned to Cia and yelled, "You were punched out by _hair_!"

Cia looked back at both of them and absently twirled a lock of white hair between her index finger and thumb. A small smirk upon her lips, she replied, "I'm glad I don't have a short fuse, unlike either of you."

Wizzro, having spawned one of his shadow beasts at that point, and Volga were then torn between focusing their antagonism on each other, or on their superior. The indecision soon led to both of them dispelling their respective weaponry, and they both took separate seats strewn throughout the central room of the temple.

An extended silence followed, before Cia turned to Wizzro and asked, "So, shall they be arriving soon?"

Wizzro was about to say something in response, when he stopped and leaned toward the temple's entrance. He cupped a twig-like hand to where his ear would be, and he shushed Volga when the knight had started to ask him something.

Volga and Cia soon heard it, as well: the extended yell of a certain green-clad hero on the horizon, apparently all too eager to smite some evil with his newfound evil-smiting sword. The admonishments of his companions followed shortly after, and from then on the unified march of the Hyrulean forces was all too audible.

Wizzro shrugged absentmindedly. "I'd say soon, soonish?"

Cia's expression darkened at her minion's lackadaisical response, but she then stood, her jeweled scepter appearing in her hands. With a snap of her fingers, her complete forces stood around the temple, ready to put an end to the conflict once and for all. She turned to her two generals, and with a smirk of newfound resolve, she asked them both, "Are you ready to end this conflict, and those heroes, once and for all?"

They both laughed, Wizzro's laugh a shrieking cackle of perverse glee, and Volga's laugh a rumbling baritone of heated confidence. They looked to each other, then to Cia, and gave a final nod.

With that, the three turned to the entrance, lying in wait for their guests of the hour, with bated breath.

* * *

The resultant battles were arduous, long-fought, and difficult. But, in the end, Cia, Volga, and Wizzro all fought as true warriors would and should.

And they all fucking died.

**––END––**


End file.
